Of Winchesters and Castles
by WateryMind
Summary: Markus, Cloud and Zack are "soldiers of fortune" from the Great Frontier hired to protect Queen Claire Farron and her kin. Throw assassination attempts, a very mad, and magically powerful, younger sister and general chaos and you ahve your story! OC's, T


**A/N: OH SNAP! I live!** Yes, that needed to be bolded and underlined xD Anywho, it is I, the very insane Watery! I have returned, and bought with me... Well, I dunno, to be honest. A Western AU FF7/FF13 crossover with OCs? Yeah, I guess thats it. Anyway, this is PART ONE of the prologue.

Jesus, this is gonna be a biggie...

DISCLAIMER: While poor Markus and co, bless their tortured souls, belong to me, any and all Final Fantasy characters, names and setting belong to Square Enix. I merely make them dance on strings like a twisted puppet master! :D

**Prologue**

"You said there was only a few of them!" the first man cried, clutching his rifle tightly. His bright blue eyes were focused, but filled with anger. His spikey blond hair seemed to defy gravity, despite the fact that there was blood splattered through it, along with most of his clothing, which consisted of a flowing brown cloak covering a green and grey shirt. The source of said blood lay on the floor, missing most of his left arm and most of his blood currently exiting his body through the massive tear in his throat. Meanwhile, his friends were firing on the blond man and his companion, who were crouching behind a market cart that was, for the time being, bulletproof, from behind a wagon about 50 feet away. Around them, the screams of the townsfolk echoed around them as the firefight raged in the middle of their small town.

"I may have also had bad info!" the blond man's friend replied. His hair was dark brown and draped down the side of his face and across his shoulder, framing his hazel brown eyes that burned with excitement and adrenalin. His gab consisted of a brown cloak, similar to the blonde's cloak, covering a black coat which in turned covered a brown shirt that was stained red and black pants, similarly stained. On his hips were two pistol holsters, one of which was empty, and across his back, resting in a holster, was a rifle, and an empty sword holster. Said weapon, a two handed great-sword splattered with blood, was gripped tightly in one hand, the blade resting on the ground. His other hand contained the second pistol, the barrel smoking slightly.

"Gaia damnit, Markus! This is the last time I am _ever_ following you into hell!" the blond yelled angrily, before rising and firing two shots. A cry of pain and a sharp crack coming from a shattered neck followed a split second later.

"Well, Cloud, you would think that you would have the sense to not follow me then!" Markus replied, grinning at his friend. Cloud replied with a scowl, then snapped his rifle up at the noise of running feet.

"Whoa man! Don't shoot me now!" said the source of the sound, skidding to a crouch besides the two fighters. His hair bounced, being spiked back and seemingly able to defy gravity. His bright blue eyes were full of amusement, as if he found the whole situation that he and his friends were in a fun challenge. His clothing was similar to Markus' and Cloud's: brown cloak, covering a loose black shirt and grey pants. Across his back was a massive great-sword, easily twice the size of Markus' weapon.

"Don't scare the man then Zack. He's a bit jumpy at the moment," said Markus, grinning at the blond.

"Jumpy isn't the word I would use," Cloud replied through gritted teeth, before rising again and firing thrice: two shots missed their intended targets, instead slamming into the wagon. The third, however, impacted with the forehead of the man who had been relatively smart and taken up a sniper's position on a roof nearly the group's cover.

"You're just mad that I saw this bloke before you did," Markus said, kicking the body that was bleeding at their feet. Whatever reply Cloud had was lost to a hail of bullets slamming into the market cart. A creaking sound came from the cart, followed by the entire contraption caving in on itself. The three friends looked at each other, and then ran for their lives.

Cloud dived for the nearest cover he could find; a nearby chocobo trough, before returning fire. Meanwhile, Zack simply whipped his massive weapon off his back and slammed it into the ground, using it as cover. Markus, however, opted for the more suicidal approach. Charging forward, he emptied his pistol at the wagon, forcing the men behind it to take cover. Holstering the pistol, Markus gripped his weapon's hilt tightly with both hands, before sprinting around the side of the wagon and _slamming_ the great-sword into the man taking cover at the corner. The sword forced the man against the wagon, his cry of pain and shock mixing with the sound of his rib cage caving in on itself as the sword cut straight through him, before embedding itself in the wagon. The man's five remaining allies gave a cry, and tried to raise their rifles at Markus. Markus responded by ripping his second pistol from its holster and firing, killing two men outright and blowing a hole through the neck of the third. The fourth was smarter, opting to instead charge at Markus, using his rifle as a club. Markus tried to bring his pistol up in time, but he was too slow. The stock of the man's rifle slammed into Markus' head, knocking the fighter down. Markus shook the pain away and looked up to see the man levering a round into his rifle's chamber, before a black and brown blur fell upon him with a sickening crunch. Blinking, Markus saw Zack, his massive great sword embedded in bad guy. The black haired man grinned at Markus, before both turned their heads at the sound of a shotgun being pumped by the last remaining man. The man grinned at them for a moment, and then shouldered his shotgun…

… And then his brain exited his head via the back of his skull.

"You know," said Cloud, coming around the wagon, his rifle's barrel smoking as he levered another round into it. "It would be nice if you two would stop trying to get yourselves killed. Just every once in a while, ya know?"

Markus and Zack looked at each other, and laughed.

"Okay, we know you're in there. Just give us the girl, and no one else gets hurt," Markus yelled, banging on the door of the village's saloon. The only response he got was a hail of gunfire ripping through the door.

"Open that door an' the girl dies!" Came a rough voice from within. Peering in through a gap in the door, he saw at least 6 men kneeling behind upturned tables, all with rifles and shotguns trained at the door. At the back of the saloon, shielded by the saloon's bar with its stools stacked on top as a barricade, was a big burly man, with one hand clutching a sawn off shotgun, the other a teenaged girl, who was struggling and clawing at his arm.

"Hmm… Zack, head round the back. Wait for the signal," Markus whispered.

"What's the signal?" Zack replied, going to sneak around the corner.

"You'll know it when you hear it," was the reply. Zack nodded, before slipping around the corner out of sight. Cloud looked at Markus.

"What are you planning?" Cloud whispered.

"I'm thinking that barricade looks about explosive proof," Markus replied, giving Cloud an evil grin. Cloud replied in kind, before reaching into his cloak and pulling a small wooden sphere with a fuse sticking out the top off his belt. Markus pulled a flint and tinder from his pocket, before quickly and expertly lighting the fuse. Cloud waited until the fuse was very nearly completely consumed, before quickly lobbing it through the saloon window. The men inside had about one second to watch the sparking sphere fly over the tables and rebound off the bar, before the grenade detonated, shredding the men behind the tables into bloody pulp. The leader, meanwhile, had the sense to dive for cover the second the window shattered, dragging the girl screaming down with him. The explosion knocked him senseless though.

When his senses had returned, he staggered to his feet to find that the girl had run out the back door, and that there was a rifle barrel resting on the bridge of his nose, its owner's foot planted firmly on his chest.

"Wait wait wait! I have money! I can pay you big time!" he pleaded, his eyes focused on the rifle barrel.

"The bounty on your head is worth 500 crowns _alone_. This job is worth an extra 200. Sorry. You're more valuable dead," said Markus, who then forced the rifle's barrel into his victim's mouth and fired, blowing the back of his head out and splattering the floor with blood and brain matter.

"I don't get why you do that," Cloud said, using the man's corpse to clean his shoes. "It's easier to shot them in the forehead."

"Shooting them in the forehead ruins the face. Makes them harder to identify," Markus replied, before pulling his sword out of its holster and using it to cut the man's head off. He then pulled a leather bag off his belt and dumped his price inside. Giving the devastated saloon one more passing look, he walked out, Cloud following not far behind.

The ride back to Kalm was uneventful, aside from Markus' smoke grey chocobo, Smokey, trying to bite Zack, as he always did. The girl slept for the two days, and Markus didn't blame her. Just judging from the bruises and scratches on her exposed arms, she had been through hell. Markus sighed. Lord knew he could use some sleep. After tracking the gang of bandits through 3 counties, Markus was looking forward to sleeping on his own bed for a changing, instead of the rocky, dusty ground of the Great Frontier. Once the small village that he, Zack and Cloud called home, Smokey, Zack's black chocobo Angeal and Cloud's golden chocobo Honey grew excited and gave out great "warrkkk!"s as they drew near, drawing the attention of the village's children, who came running out to welcome home their heroes.

"Wolf! Storm! Ranger!" they cried, using Zack's, Cloud's and Markus' bounty hunter names in place of their true names.

"Hey kids. Careful, Smokey's hungry, and I bet he wouldn't mind eating one of you, would he?" Markus said, grinning. Smokey gave out a happy "wark!" and snapped his beak playfully at the children, who backed away giggling. Markus' attention was then drawn by the sound of a door slamming open as he dismounted.

"Zack!" cried a woman, around the same age as Zack, as she ran towards the same gathering. She had brown hair, drawn back into a thick plait that ran down her back that was tied off with a pick ribbon. The dress she wore was while with pink trimmings, and her feet were protected by sandals. She ran towards Zack, who caught you as she was running and lifted her into the air in a hug.

"Aerith! Gods I missed you…" Zack said, before losing himself in her kiss. Markus, having been dumped with the duty of carrying the still asleep girl, smiles softly at the sight, before turning and walking towards the village's saloon, 7th Heaven.

Entering the saloon, he saw it to be nearly empty. There was Tifa, behind the bar, jumping between cleaning a glass and nursing her own drink, her face contorted in worry. Then there was Squall, the local Marshall, his rifle resting beside his stool at the bar. And then…

"Mr Shinra," Markus said, catching the attention of the third man in the bar. His hair was a vivid red, and the white suit he wore was horribly out of place in the very Frontier bar.

"Ah. The Black Ranger. You have returned…" He said, turning to Markus.

"With your sister, yes. She's asleep, don't worry," Markus said, walking towards the man. Mr Shinra clicked his fingers, and a man Markus hadn't noticed until then pulled himself away from the wall, and took the girl from him.

"And payment?" Markus said, folding his arms. Mr Shinra responded by pulling a small bag from under the table and dumping it onto the tabletop. The table creaked audibly.

"200 Bodhum Crowns, as requested. Enjoy your day," Shrina said, before standing and leaving the bar, his bodyguard in tow. Grabbing the bag and giving it a shake, Markus then walked over to Squall, and awoke the Marshall by thumping the leather bag containing the head onto the table.

"Huh? Oh. Markus," Squall said, nodding his head at the bounty hunter.

"Loz the Sliver. Believe he's worth 500 Crowns," Markus said. Squall said nothing, then grabbed the back and opened it. After looking at the head for a moment, he nodded.

"That he is. I'll get the money later. For now, let me enjoy my afternoon," Squall said, holding up a bottle of whiskey. Markus grinned and shook his head, before walking away. He reached the door, then stopped.

"Tifa. Stop worrying. Cloud's home, and he's fine," he said, before walking out into the harsh Frontier sun, missing the look of relief on Tifa's face.

After dodging several questions from the children about his trip (his standard answer was "Your parents will get mad if I told you"), Markus finally made it home, Smokey having wandered there once the children had stopped petting him and sat down under his favourite tree. After relieving the chocobo of its saddle, Markus then entered the small house he called home. Shrugging off his cloak, he looked around the small living room, and sighed. It was good to be home. Brushing dust off of various objects and books, he slowly removed his holsters and weapons. After resting his rifle against the wall 7 feet from the door, he sat down and inspected his sword. It was very much worse for wear, the metal bent and buckled. Markus tried to flex the blade, only for half of it to snap off completely, cutting Markus' hand in the process. Swearing, Markus sucked on the cut for a moment, before focusing his will and muttering "Cure". The wound knitted itself back together, almost good as new aside from a dark patch of skin. Markus sighed. Hopefully this one wouldn't scar. Tossing the shattered sword into a corner for later disposal, Markus left the sitting room and entered his bedroom. Even though it hadn't seen its occupant for over three weeks, the room was still messy, with clothes, books and boxes of ammunition lying on the floor. Navigating the maze of junk, Markus made his way to the bed, before laying on his side, looking at a picture of a smiling girl gabbed in mage's robes. Even in the magically created picture, it was easy to see the similarities between them.

"Heya Tayla. Had a rough few weeks," Markus said softly, talking to the picture. "Finally got that bastard Loz. Gods know how long he's been terrorizing the area. Anyway, I'm safe and sound. I just hope that you are too, sister of mine." Smiling, Markus brushed the bust off the photo, before turning over and closing his eyes, falling asleep nearly instantly.

A/N: Well? Is it good? Bad? Do you want to stab me and all my descentants? Let me know! That review button gets lonely every once in a while...

For reference, Cloud, Zack, Tifa, Aerith, Mr Shinra (Rufus), Loz and the name Kalm are from FF7 and its extended universe and Squall is from FF8. Let me know if I missed anyone .


End file.
